A Face To Call Home
by Hilary Parker
Summary: After thinking the opportunity lost, can Loker makes a stand and claim what's his? Fic idea that won't let me go. 1st LTM fic; Eli/Emily but mean to have all of the characters well represented. This should also span several genres Drama/Angst/Hurt/Comfort...Title subject to change. Sounding board/beta sought.
1. Prologue: His

_Disclaimer: Lie To Me and it's cannon characters do not belong to me. I'm honestly not sure who it/they belong to right now and I'm too tired to look it up, but I do know it's not me. I have no interest in making any monetary profit from this work of fan fiction._

_Author's Note: I've been debating with myself about posting this since it's not beta'd and no where near finished and is not my usual fandom and is meant to be the prologue to what could turn into a lengthy fic and that scares me given I've never actually finished a longer fic. Those are the cons. The pro to posting it, is that maybe someone (or even a few someones) currently interested in the fandom will find it appealing enough to want to possibly trade a few emails about where this could go/offer advice and or encouragement. Right now the pro seems to outweigh the cons. So here goes nothing. _

_P.S. to anyone from the Primeval fandom that reads this, I have not forgotten my 'Say It With…" series and I promise I am working on the 2__nd__ Valentine's Day installment. That file is in fact open now and has been most of the day. I just needed to get the LTM muses to let Becker and Jess muses get a word/thought in edgewise._

_Dec. 22, 2012_

Loker eased the door open slowly not wanting to disturb Emily if she was asleep. He wanted desperately to see her and at the same time was hesitant to step inside the hospital room and face this latest shift in his reality_. _

_Emily's back;_

_Lightman's little girl; _

_The precocious kid who'd been the first one to make him feel welcome at The Lightman Group._

_The 'funky old soul' fifteen year old that saw more than she should, felt more than she should and scared the hell out of him with a kiss that he still wasn't sure had been an innocent misunderstanding or a blatant moment of female manipulation._

_The wise-beyond-her-years-and-too-much-like her father-for-anyone's-own-good seventeen-going-on-adulthood-year-old fed up with being treated like a kid. _

_That Emily. _

_His Emily._

_Because sometime in the last year he'd started having serious problems remembering that she was the boss' daughter and after the last time he'd seen her he sure as hell had trouble thinking of her as the boss' little girl. _

_So yeah, his Emily, back from wherever she'd taken off to all those months before. And_ l_et's not forget,' _his battered psyche reminded him,_ 'lying in a hospital bed, pregnant, hurt, scared and alone. And she called you. She called you, not Lightman.'_

He bounced his head against the door jam currently holding him up. "Forget fired. I'm so dead."


	2. Chapter 1: Late Night Visitor

_May 26, 2012 _

* * *

Looking up from the guitar he was quietly strumming at the knock on his door, Eli Loker glanced at the digital alarm clock on the end table that also served as his nightstand with a frown. It was well after midnight. He wondered for a moment if Ria had decided to take him up on a 'benefits night' after all, but dismissed it. She had reminded him rather pointedly when he'd made the offer that they'd put that particular side of their co-wokers/friends relationship to rest on New Year's Day.

"And I have no interest in falling back into old bad habits, Loker." She had said, with a hand on his shoulder and a half smile to take the sting out of the rebuke. She'd looked across the room then to the graduation party's guest of honor before kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear, "And neither should you."

Shortly there after he'd seen Torres headed out Lightman's front door with Wallowski's new partner at heel.

So definitely not Ria, he thought as another knock, less hesitant this time, more desperate, pulled him away from the memory. He set the musical instrument aside and stood in one fluid movement. Half way across the room (three whole steps) he realized he was bare-chested and bare-footed and considered going back to grab his shirt but shrugged the notion off.

_Showing up unannounced in the middle of the night, whoever's on the other side of the door's lucky I'm not answering it in the nud- . _ The thought fizzled out when he opened the door to reveal Emily Lightman standing in the dimly lit hallway.

Even without his training he'd have recognized a damsel in distress. Red rimmed eyes and ravaged eye makeup were a dead giveaway after all. However, because of his training he noticed a lot more than the fact that she had been crying. Like the fact that her big brown eyes were also too bright, meaning she hadn't had the crying under control long and could easily start back up at any moment. Like the way she held the battered leather backpack/purse contraption hugged to her chest like a shield.

He knew the moment she registered that he was standing there and his state of undress. The hand that had been poised to knock again dropped to her side as her pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly, her breath catching. The micro expressions of desire were fleeting though, and in their wake he saw additional signs of distress; lip biting, fidgeting where she stood, blinking back those threatening tears.

All of this was noted in just a few short seconds then he was reaching for her, an automatic reflex. The need to protect and comfort warred with a fierce desire to find out who or what had brought her to this state and respond with extreme prejudice. The moment his hand touched her elbow the damn burst and in the next moment her bag was at their feet and she was sobbing in his arms.


	3. Chapter 2: Bedside Vigil

_Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just borrowing them for entertainment purposes.  
_

_A/N: So here's this. A bit longer than the last two. I'm not sure I'm completely happy with it, but then I never am. I do know I desperately want to get my hands on episodes to rewatch since I haven't actually seen the show since Fox canceled it. Seriously jonesing for it though. Hopefully Eli's not too out of character and this makes sense. I'm still debating if letting the muses have their way and jumping back in forth in time is going to work, but for now I'm feeling the need to play it out that way. As such, the next chapter should deal with the events unfolding back in May with Em showing up at Eli's doorstep. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.  
_

* * *

_Dec. 22, 2012_

* * *

When he finally worked up the courage to step into the room fully, Eli left the door open since a doctor was supposed to be coming to talk to him. He moved carefully around the drawn privacy curtain and froze as he finally set eyes on Emily Lightman for the first time in just over seven months.

"Christ, Em." The words escaped him on a harsh exhale as he took in the assortment of bruises, bandages, splints, and sling that gave testament to the fact that she had been in a particularly violent accident along with the heavy swell of her stomach beneath the thin hospital blanket that fairly screamed 'baby on board'.

It was a toss up as to which visual disturbed him more. He'd known, even if he hadn't yet been given a rundown of her injuries that they wouldn't be minor. She'd been on a train derailed by a semi. She was damn lucky to be alive and maybe even luckier that the baby was still 'on board'.

As for the baby, knowing she was pregnant and seeing firsthand the physical evidence of that particular reality were two entirely different things. Maybe, if he'd been allowed to watch the pregnancy progress it would be easier, but looking at her now and remembering how she'd looked standing in front of him the night before she left DC forced Eli Loker to face an ugly truth- somewhere, in the darker recesses of his mind, he had apparently held the secret hope that she would choose abortion.

Shamed and disgusted by the realization, Eli swore succinctly, if silently, as he moved around the bed.

* * *

Dr. Rabhine Adari was finishing a late night supper consisting of an apple and a yogurt parfait when a vaguely familiar nurse poked her head into the staff lounge and said, "You wanted to know when someone showed up to see 2013?"

"Yes, thank you," Rabhi responded, shoving to her feet and quickly disposing of the remains of the makeshift meal. As the nurse disappeared out the door again, she took a moment to wash her hands then slipped her lab coat back on over faded blue scrubs. A final longing glance was cast at the not yet full coffee pot before she stepped through the door herself.

Just a couple of minutes later she paused outside room 2013 long enough to lift the three ring binder with 'Lightman, E.' printed on the spine from it's holder to the right of the door. Tucking the notebook under her arm she wrapped lightly on the door before frame by way of announcement and then stepped into the room.

She drew the privacy curtain back in a fluid movement and offered her best reassuring smile to the young man standing on the far side of the bed. In that first moment she took in as many details as possible.

Height, approximate weight, and hair color were all noted as a matter of course, pure habit. When his eyes shifted from the girl in the bed to meet Rabhi's and back again she noted that they were green and clouded with worry. She noticed too that he was chewing the inside of his lower lip and that his long narrow fingers were wrapped around the bed rail. _He's afraid to touch her. Out of fear of hurting her in some way or just not wanting to disturb her rest?_

"Hello, I'm Doctor Adari. You must be Eli," she greeted, stepping up to the end of the bed and offering the obviously concerned young man her hand.

She watched him swipe his palm on his jeans before reaching out to take hers and saw the confusion in his eyes. "I was the one who asked Emily if there was anyone we could call for her, when she was brought in. She seemed pretty adamant that only Eli be called and even asked that he be told not to tell anyone else she was here. Since there is only you here, I assume your Eli."

"Eli Loker," he agreed, looking back to the girl as he drew his hand back, finally daring to cover the small hand that grasped the blanket in a loose fist with his own. "Is she-" he cleared his throat. "How bad?"

The question hung in the air for a moment and Rabhi waited until he brought his gaze back up to her own. Her deep voice was reassuring as she responded, "With a little luck the worst Emily will carry away from this are a few scars and even then, the scarring from the two facial lacerations will be minimal. The one on her left leg won't win any beauty contest, but if nothing else it will be a good conversation starter."

He nodded, his gaze skipping back to the girl and the doctor could tell the next question came hard. "The baby?"

"Fetal distress and the sheer amount of pain Emily was in immediately after the accident caused her to go into premature labor, but we were able to reverse that." She paused then and moved to check one of the machines on the right side of the bed. "Heart rate is strong and steady now, with no signs of continued distress."

"Okay." He nodded again, and seemed to be steadying himself. "Okay. Tell me everything."

* * *

Ah hour after the doctor had left, Eli sat on the edge of what would have been a surprisingly comfortable chair if used properly watching Emily sleep fitfully. He had his left forearm resting along the bed rail and held her left hand in his right, having gently prized the blanket free. Every so often her fingers would squeeze his as her lips tightened and her eyes moved beneath the lids.

She was dreaming or in pain, or more likely both and it was tearing him up that there was absolutely nothing he could do for her but hold her hand and honor her wish not to tell anyone else she was here. Lightman would likely kill him for it, and if he didn't Zoe Landau no doubt would, but until Emily woke up and gave him the okay, Eli was determined to keep her secret.

So he watched her sleep, his own head pillowed on the arm resting on the rail, resolutely focusing on the left side of her face, which was oddly bruise free. He found if he focused on that the sick feeling in his gut eased off enough that he could match his breathing to hers and slowly his own eyes began to drift closed only to pop back open a moment later when the door opened and a nurse stepped in.

Sitting up straight, he ran his free hand through his hair before rubbing at his eyes, as the nurse gave him a reassuring smile and set about checking Emily's vitals and switching out one of the bags hanging from the IV pole.

When she had that done, she looked back to him. "I need to see if she can answer a few questions. Do you want be the one to wake her up?"

"Yeah." Eli leaned forward, reaching out to lightly trace fingers along the unbruised side of Em's face as he leaned over her. "Emily? Hey, Em. You've gotta wake up now."

The fingers around his tightened almost painfully, and she turned her head into his touch with a quiet groan, but her eyes stayed stubbornly closed. "Come on, Em. I didn't blow off work and drive for four hours to watch you sleep. Wake up."

"E—eli."

Relief flooded him at the tremulous, but familiar voice and he realized then that a big part of him had been scared she wouldn't wake up, even though the doctor had assured him she was going to be fine. "Yeah, Em. I'm here. Open your eyes, Em."

"Hurt."

"I know, Em. But it's gonna be okay. Open up," he coaxed, not even realizing he'd lifted her hand up to press against his chest.

Slowly her brown eyes fluttered open unfocused, closed, then opened again latching on to his. They were dulled by pain medication that Doctor Adari had assured him was mild and not likely to cause the baby any harm. "Hey, you."

She blinked against pain and an overwhelming urge to cry, struggling to keep her eyes open and on him. "Hey. You came."

"Of course I came," Eli assured her, thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. "You called."


	4. Chapter 3: Her Anchor

_May 26, early AM._

* * *

_He knew the moment she registered that he was standing there and his state of undress. The hand that had been poised to knock again dropped to her side as her pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly, her breath catching. The micro expressions of desire were fleeting though, and in their wake he saw additional signs of distress; lip biting, fidgeting where she stood, blinking back those threatening tears._

_All of this was noted in just a few short seconds then he was reaching for her, an automatic reflex. The need to protect and comfort warred with a fierce desire to find out who or what had brought her to this state and respond with extreme prejudice. The moment his hand touched her elbow the damn burst and in the next moment her bag was at their feet and she was sobbing in his arms._

In those first moments when Emily's arms came around him-one icy cold hand wrapping around his left bicep and the other fisting in the middle of his back- all Eli could think was that something had happened to Lightman. Or maybe Foster. In that moment there was no other reason he could imagine for Emily to have shown up here, at his apartment, overcome by grief so raw and palpable that it stole the breath and left the body cold and shocky.

It didn't make sense though. If something had happened to Lightman then Emily would be with Foster. Similarly, he knew that if something had happened to Foster, Em would stick stubbornly, protectively close to her father's side. Either way, Eli would have gotten a phone call, unless_ they'd both been..._

_No! Un uh! _He shoved that thought away the moment it popped into his head. Radical honesty be damned. In part because the idea scared the hell out of him on several levels, but also because logic said it was unlikely. When he'd left the house his bosses now shared just a few hours before, both had been fine and Emily had left at the same time as him, "_headed to another graduation party,"_ she'd said as he walked her to her car. "_One with a 'no one over twenty-one rule."_

_"And suddenly I'm relegated to the fine scotch and bottled imports crowd, while you get to go slam jell-o shots and watch your peers play beer pong, huh?," Eli surmised, giving Emily a friendly shoulder bump. _

_"I'll have you know I rock at beer pong, thankyouverymuch. Besides, I bet I could get an exception made for you." Though her tone had been equal parts teasing and nonchalance, there was an edgy undercurrent that had him zeroing in on her expression.  
_

_Whatever he'd expected to find all she'd let him see was a flirty grin that was so dangerously appealing that self preservation instincts kicked in and he'd made some excuse about needing to go into the office for a while. Which really had been the plan before the invite so hadn't even violated the radical honesty rules.  
_

He couldn't help but wonder now though, would she be in her current state if he'd gone to the party with her. She was all but burrowed into him. Near silent sobs seemed to rip through her slender frame as she clung tight. He got the impression she was only upright because of her hold on him and the fact that his own arms had automatically folded around her.

Sweeping her bag aside with a bare foot, Eli drew Emily a shuffling step away from the door, enough so that he could nudge the door shut with the same foot as he held her, one arm wrapped across her shoulders, the other moving up and down her back in an effort to sooth. He bent his head so that his lips all but brushed her ear trying to offer quiet reassurance with words of comfort that felt useless to his own ears. He wanted to set her back from him and check for signs of physical injury and demand to know what was wrong, but knew that he had to get her calmed down first.

So he held her and waited. The sobs gradually gave way to hitched breathing and the fist at his back eased and the one curled around his arm fell to rest against his side, just beneath the ribs. Both were warmer now against his skin he tamped down on feelings that had absolutely no place in this moment, with this girl; reminded himself not for the first time that she was Lightman's daughter and barely eighteen.

_Not to mention an emotional wreck, prick. _The self recrimination wasn't new either and he shifted his hold on Emily. He wanted to put a bit of space between them as much out of self preservation as a fierce need for answers so he slid his hands up and around to cup her cheeks, forearms slipping between them.

She let him ease her back and gently tilt her face up, but kept her eyes downcast, lids half closed, lips drawn into a tight line, the corners twitching. Any trace of the lipstick she'd worn earlier had long since been chewed off.

"Emily, hey," he gave her a small shake, even as his thumb brushed at tears and ruined make up. "Look at me, Em. Tell me what's wrong." Directives, not questions he knew, were needed to break through the emotions that engulfed her.

With another shuddering breath, Emily closed her eyes tight for a moment and then finally looked at him, or more accurately looked through him. He didn't think she really saw him as she finally spoke.

"Macy's dead."

The words, delivered in a dull monotone struck him like a blow. He'd known, or at least he'd sensed from the moment he registered her grief that someone was dead. He knew it had to be someone that truly mattered to Emily for her to be so completely shattered. Along with Foster and Lightman, he'd rejected the notion of it being her mom, because again, Lightman would have been at Emily's side, even in his own grief; and Foster would be there for both of them.

So of course, that left her closed friends and for something to have happened at the party or on the road. Something that his bosses didn't know about yet. Until she said the name it hadn't occurred to him that it would be someone he thought of as a friend too. _It should have, or else, why would she have come_ _here?_

"Macy." Just saying the name left Eli feeling suddenly unsteady himself and he faltered. One hand slid into Emily's hair and the other folded around her as her slender hands slid up his chest and around his neck. Eli didn't feel the glide of skin on skin but suddenly they were holding each other up as he rested his brow against hers, green eyes darkening with threatening tears. "I'm sorry, Em. God, I'm sorry."_  
_

The grief in his voice finally cut through her own and awareness flooded her. She'd felt so lost and alone in the aftermath of finding her friend; the cries for help that hadn't been heard over the noise of the party raging on the other side of the pool house door; the frantic 911 call while desperately searching for Macy's purse and the injection pen she always had with her in case she slipped into a diabetic coma.

The injection hadn't helped so that had been followed by an even more desperate attempt at mouth-to-mouth and chest compressions stopped only when the paramedics had arrived to take over; the other party goers; Jenna; the ambulance ride to the hospital holding Macy's cold dead hand; the ER doc pronouncing time of death; realizing that something wasn't right; calling Wollowski; facing Macy's parents; a uniformed officer with instructions to take her home leading her away; the officer asking him for her address and giving him Eli's instead.

It hadn't even been a concious thought to do so, but as every moment of the last few hours washed over her like a tidal wave and Eli became her anchor Emily realized she was exactly where she needed to be. Without even stopping to consider what she was about to do, her head tilted up and she pressed her lips to his.

* * *

A/N: And the muses say end it there. Plus, I'm being asked to go to the store. Hopefully I'll get to write some more later. If anyone is reading this and is so inclined, I would love some feedback.


	5. Chapter 4: Lies & Distractions

Disclaimer: I still haven't gotten around to looking up who the show/cannon characters belong to, but I do know it's still not me.

New A/N 1: I apologize for how long it's taken me to get this posted. I could point to numerous reason such as real life work and family stuff as well as reluctant muses and writers block and they certainly all played a part, but I will also distracted by other fannish addictions, for which I am sorry. I promise to work harder to not let this one get shoved aside, because I really want to tell this story. To any sticking with it, thank you!

New A/N 2: Most of this was written ages ago, I just never was quite satisfied with it. I think I am now, mostly. It ends sooner than I'd like, but I'll try to make up for that soon.

New A/N 3: Happy New Years, ya'll!

Old A/N 1: Before I actually begin writing the next chapter I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who has read this story and in particular thank those of you who have commented on it. It really means a lot. A couple of anonymous reviews I really wanted to respond to so I'll just say here on both points made, 'all in due time', I promise.

Old A/N 2: I'm not sure how much the following quote will play into this chapter or the story as a whole, but I read it on Twitter and had to share: "Our own life is the instrument with which we experiment with the truth." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

* * *

_…."Hey, you."_

_She blinked against pain and an overwhelming urge to cry, struggling to keep her eyes open and on him. _

_"Hey. You came."_

_"Of course I came," Eli assured her, thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. "You called."_

For a long moment Emily could only stare at Eli, then she finally managed to ask, "My dad?"

He shook his head. "Just me. They said that was what you wanted."

She could only nod, eyes drifting closed before popping back open. Her voice was full of quiet desperation when she said, "I was coming home. For Christmas. Wanted to be home wi—with all of you."

"You will be Em. You already are. Maybe not all the way, but you're here. I'm here," Eli promised, as he cupped her cheek and leaned forward until his face was just inches from hers. "And as soon as you say it's okay, I'll call your dad and Foster; your mom. If you can't make it all the way home for Christmas then Christmas will just have to happen here."

He leaned in then, and placed a kiss at her left temple when what he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and hold her close. He was painfully aware of her injuries, her age, the nurse, and a myriad of other reasons giving in to that urge was a really bad idea. "The nurse here needs to check you out. I'm going to be right here though, alright?"

When she gave that tiny little nod again, he stepped back, but was careful to stay in Emily's line of sight. He listened to her answer the routine questions—her name, date of birth, if she remembered why she was in the hospital. She answered them all in a husky, weak voice her brown eyes on him when they were open. The responses barely registered until the nurse asked Emily to rate her pain on scale of one to ten.

"A se-six, maybe."

"Liar." Eli moved from where he'd been leaning against the closed bathroom door to the end of the bed. The nurse was looking at him curiously while Emily was trying and failing to glare. "On a guess I would say she's at least a high eight since she almost gave you a seven before deciding she needed to put more distance from the truth."

"Traitor." Brown eyes accused before shifting to the caregiver. "Nothing stronger. Dr. Adari agreed."

"She did. But she also made arrangements for some alternative forms of pain management should they be needed, starting with letting your young man stay with you despite the fact that visiting hours are long over. And a good thing that was apparently since he knows you well enough to see through your lie."

"He should, it's his job." Emily responded, managing to inject annoyance into her tone.

"Is it then?" Another curious glance was shot his way before the older woman shifted her full attention back to her patient. "So the truth of it then, is it an eight or even higher?"

"Nine."

"Where's the pain the worst?"

The next forty minutes was a bustle of activity that saw a physical therapist in to ice Emily's injured shoulder and hand, a tech in to draw blood, and another bearing syringes that contained medication meant to numb the skin and muscles around the angry gash in her right leg.

One glance at the injury- closed by twenty-seven stitches and eleven staples—was enough to turn his stomach. Watching the needles pierce her bruised skin wasn't an option so Eli held her uninjured hand against his chest, quietly encouraging her to focus on his touch as he stroked the fingers of his free hand up and down the inside of her arm from wrist to elbow. Occasionally he wiped away tears and the entire time he spoke quietly, doing his own part to help her deal with the pain.

When all the fuss was finally over with and they were alone, Eli felt like he'd been put through the wringer himself. Reluctant to relinquish the physical contact he'd established with Emily, even though she had slipped into a restive sleep, he hooked a foot under the chair he had been sitting in earlier and drug it right up against the bed.

When he was finally settled, Eli was slumped in the chair, long, denim clad legs stretched out in front of him beside the bed, ankles crossed; as relaxed as circumstances allowed. One arm lay along side Emily's uninjured one, he'd set her hand on his forearm and cupped her elbow, his thumb lightly caressing the delicate skin on the inside. Sure that if she woke she'd know he was there, and that if she moved her arm he'd know it, Eli let himself finally drift off into a sleep every bit as uneasy as Em's.

* * *

"All I'm saying, Cal, is that you could hold off on condemning him until you know why he took off." As she delivered the admonishment, Gillian Foster turned the key in the deadbolt and then pushed the kitchen door open. The moment she was inside she kicked her heels off and to the side, a contented sigh escaping her as she set her feet flat against the cool tile floor.

Behind her, Cal Lightman stepped inside taking advantage of the fact that Gil had stopped just inside the door to press his body flush against hers to allow enough room to close the door behind him. He brushed a kiss against her neck, before giving her a gentle shove to get her moving as he continued the argument they'd been having off and on all afternoon and evening.

"And all I'm saying, luv, is that Loker knew how big this job was and he could have at least given us a heads up we would be going in a man short." Cal made his way directly to the old fashioned answering machine and checked for messages.

As the messages played, Gillian slipped up behind her fiance and rested her head on his shoulder as she reached around to remove the tie he had loosened the moment they left the party. She could feel his disappointment that the only message was a sales call. She knew it wasn't a message from their errant employee he had been hoping for and set about distracting him from his disappointment that they were another day closer to Christmas with no contact from his only child.

Random Note: Thanks to an astrological twitter feed (The 12 Signs) I've decided Cal Lightman is a Scorpio.

PS: Please feed the muses!


	6. Chapter 5: Rude Awakenings

Disclaimer: I still haven't gotten around to looking up who the show/cannon characters belong to, but I do know it's still not me.

A/N 1: So I wrote this while sitting at my father's hospital bedside. He's okay now but it was kinda scary for a while there.

A/N 2: I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine, mine, mine.

A/N 3: My thanks to all who have reviewed, favorited and/or followed this story. Feedback is awesome!

~8~

May 26, Early AM

~8~

With the woman he loved curled against him, her head on his shoulder and her soft hair tickling his chin, Cal Lightman tried to resist the insistent buzzing in his brain telling him to wake up. He shifted in the bed, rolling into the warm body at his side with an incoherent mumble of protest that it was too early to be awake, only to have the buzzing joined by heavy handed pounding.

The combined racket broke though the hazy fog of sleep and he was suddenly wide-awake, heart racing. It dawned on him as Gillian stirred in his arms, that the buzzing wasn't in his head, but coming from the nightstand where his cell phone vibrated in the cork lined tray next to his wallet and watch; the pounding that seemed to match the staccato rhythm of his heart was coming from somewhere below.

"Bloody hell," he muttered sitting up at the same time as Gillian pushed herself up on one elbow with a sleep slurred "What time is it?"

Cal looked to the clock on the dresser as he stood, already reaching for a shirt to pull on.

"Not even six, yet luv. Go back to sleep," he responded quietly. He picked up the phone and silenced it without answering it, figuring it would keep until he dealt with the wanker pounding on his kitchen door, particularly since the wanker at the door and the one blowing up his phone were undoubtedly one and the same.

In the hall he stopped momentarily, startled by the sight of Emily's bed through the partially open doorway, or more to the point, startled by the fact it was empty before remembering she had said the would be spending the night at the Grangers'.

His phone buzzed in his hand again and the pounding got louder and Cal swore as it dawned on him that just because Emily had said she and Jenna and Macy would be going back to Macy's from the party she had been headed to didn't mean they had gotten there. He brought the phone to his ear as he rushed headlong for the stairs.

"Hello."

"It's about damn time, Lightman. Get your ass down here and ope-"

The words fell away as he pulled the door open and with only a cursory glance at the detective Cal took in the otherwise empty porch, walk and driveway. Wallowsky's car sat on the curb, unoccupied as well so Cal brought his gaze back to her and held the door open, tilting his head to the side by way of invitation in as he swallowed back an irrational need to demand to know where his daughter was.

He had to believe that her tone on the phone would be less irritated growl and more sympathetic friend if she was here in an official capacity regarding Em. But then, it was too damned early for a social call, even from a former lover—hell especially from a former lover—so why was she here?

Before he could ask she turned to face him, dropping a white pastry box on the countertop. "I know it's early Lightman but I need to get Emily's full statement on record asap and I figured this would be easier for her here than down at the station."

"Emily's statement?" The fear was back—less irrational now, and Cal's gaze moved to Gillian as she stepped into view then back to Wallowsky. "Her statement about what, Shazzer."

"About the Gra-Wait, Emily didn't tell you guys what happened when she got home last night?"

"Emily didn't come home last night, Detective," Gillian said, moving to stand next to Cal, her hand slipping into his. "Her bed is empty, which we expected since she was planning to spend the night with friends she was meeting up with at another party last night."

As confusion and concern clouded the detective's eyes, Cal was already dialing Emily's number and he cursed when it went directly to voicemail. He immediately dialed another number and when that went to voicemail as well, he scowled at the woman standing in front of him. "What statement, Shazzer?"

Concern and frustration mounting, Sharon decided to at least give Lightman and Foster the basics before making a phone call of her own. "There was an incident at the party, a friend of Emily's—Macy Granger died."

The news struck them both like a blow. Cal swore succinctly as his concern for Emily only increased. Gillian's hand in his tightened, her other hand coming up to clutch his arm as she sucked in a breath.

Wallowsky watched them process the news then continued on, "Emily was with her, hell Lightman, Emily found her and called me from the hospital because something felt hinky to her. I handed her off to a uniform myself. I told him to bring her home."

"And her bed's empty, Shazzer," Lightman fairly growled the words. "Where is my daughter?"

Over the next few minutes Cal paced while Wallowsky made a couple of phone calls and Gillian checked to be sure that Emily hadn't come in and settled on the couch or something not wanting to wake them up.

She came back into the room as the detective hung up the phone and asked, "Who does Emily know that lives in the Bryant building on Park?"

Brown eyes met blue and they both answered at once, "Loker."

~8~

Jerked awake by intense pain in his chest that was followed almost immediately by a similar pain entirely to close to his groin to allow for coherent thought, Eli could do nothing but gasp out a strangled moan. Then he heard a small, familiar voice mumbling, "sorry" and the twin pains eased as the weight behind the pain slipped off of him and he could see a slender body stumble toward his bathroom.

As the door slammed shut he placed the voice and the body that went with it. The physical pain was forgotten as he remembered just how Emily had come to be on his couch, so tangled up in him that she'd had to climb over him to get up. He shifted to sit up, elbows on knees and face in his hands as grief, guilt and concern washed over him, then the all too familiar sounds coming from behind the bathroom door had him up and moving.

"Em?" Eli knocked on the door and reached for the knob at the same time, his concern increasing when he found it locked. Heart in his throat all he could do was stand there and listen.

Finally, after what seemed forever the sounds leveled out to rasping breaths. He knocked again. "Em? Open up."

"Go away."

The hoarse reply, so low he could barely hear it, did nothing to appease the need to get to her, to take care of her. "Yeah, not going to happen. Unlock the door, Em."

Eli felt more than heard the click of the lock being unset in the doorknob under his hand. He found Emily sitting just inside the bathroom, her back to the wall, his favorite Ravens shirt stretched to cover her up-drawn legs, hands grasping ankles and forehead pressed to knees to hide her face.

He quickly grabbed a washcloth and wet it, then crouched down beside her. Keeping his touch light and gentle he smoothed her long auburn hair to one side and pressed the cool cloth to the back of her neck, earning a whimper. "Hey."

"I'm okay, Eli," Em said, without looking up, still hoarse, but stronger. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

He let his hand slip to her back and rubbed gentle circles, when what he really wanted to do was scoop her up in his arms. Finally an eternity later, Emily looked up at him and though she seemed pale and drawn there was a steadiness in her eyes that reassured him.

"Do you have toothbrush I can use?"

"Yeah, hang on." He shoved to his feet and retrieved a new, unopened toothbrush from the same drawer he'd taken the rag from earlier. Next he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out toothpaste and mouthwash.

Once he had them neatly laid out on the counter he extended a hand to Em and after one long moment she took it, letting Eli pull her up. He could tell she had expected him to step back once she was standing, but instead he stood with a scant inch separating them, so that he could feel her breath on his bare chest as he brought his free hand up to cup her cheek, tilting her face up so that he could see her eyes.

"Okay?"

Emily held his gaze, refusing to give in to embarrassment or shame. She seemed to be studying him the same way he was studying her. Finally she tilted her head into his touch. "I'm good, E. Promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She tugged her hand from his. "I could use some tea if you have any."

"Tea? Uhm…yeah, I think so." He finally let his hand fall away from her face, taking a step back out of the bathroom. Emily mouthed 'thanks' at him before closing the bathroom door gently, but firmly, shutting him out.

~8~

Final A/N: So the Emily/Eli scene went in a slightly different direction that I thought it would. I like it though. I hope you did as well. And oh yeah, anyone care to guess why it's a 'Ravens' shirt?


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